Chapter 5

Fugu is the priciest and rarest delicacy at Kai Kai Pai, a very pricey and rare restaurant in it's own right in Japan.  In fact, fugu is as exquisitely flavorful as it is potentially deadly, the meat being derived from the poisonous puffer fish which, if it's toxins are not removed properly, can paralyze a man making him appear dead, or asphyxiate him to actual death. And although the old man had just braved one of the highest peaks in all the world he still did not have the nerve to try it when he arrived there and was offered it on the menu. The pen he had brought to return was a cylindrical shaped glass pen. 

But when offered to the hostess she said wielding her ipad,"We no use pens anymore, We hi-tech-no pen restaurant."

So the glass pen was tucked back in his suit pocket as the waiter came to him, ipad in hand.


"You try fugu, today?" asked the waiter.


"No, I have big juicy steak, please."


"You sure? Fugu clean, we so clean we no straw restaurant."


"No thank-"


"Give me a double order," interrupted a large Texan in a white suit and cowboy hat who sat in the booth beside the old man,"no make that triple, in case this old cod changes his mind."


"Been a long time, compadre," said the old man recognizing the old friend as his much thinner pastor- preferring compadre to padre-when he and his wife lived in Houston. "You've...well, grown a bit."

"Yes, I've conquered all the cardinal sins but one," he chuckled, jiggling his belly,"In fact, my wife left me over it. Accused me of having an affair with the fridge. I'm was sorry to hear about your wife's passing."

"Yes, me too. So, are you starting a new church here?"

"No-Love food so much I left preachin' altogether to pursue a career as a chef. Came here to learn the culinary arts of fine Japanese cuisine to take back to Texas for those who want more than Mexican on the menu, comprende?"

"Comprendo," replied the old man.

And so the two enjoyed catching up while waiting for their food.


When the courses arrived, the old man was two bites into his steak by the time the Texan was halfway thru his meal.


"Sure you won't try some?" he asked after a large gulp of his beer,"Been preparin' and eatin' this stuff for years-it's harmless. They're a no straw restaurant, ya know."


"No pens, either,"smiled the old man,"Ok-why not." 

As the old man said this he began to break into a sweat. But he didn't understand his nervousness. For he did not fear death, really. Not since his wife was gone.

And so as he held up the chunk of fugu to his mouth, the Texan roused the patrons...


"GOO! GOO! GOO!" they all chanted as the old man put the puffer fish meat in his mouth and began to chew.


"If this is the taste of death, it's not half bad,"joked the old man which caused the whole restaurant to laugh, especially the Texan. 

But then came an aftertaste which was quite unplanned and unpleasant and which made the old man's weak stomach begin to rumble like a volcano.


"Excuse me," he said rushing off to the restroom while the crowd laughed on. But as the customers' died down the Texan's laughter seemed to increase and then his laughter was mixed with coughing, and then it was all coughing and no longer a laughing matter at all.


"You OK?"said a lady at the next table.


At first, the bent over Texan held out his arm signaling that he was in no need of help but soon it was around his throat signaling, along with his beat red face, something quite different.


"He poisoned!"yelled the lady's husband throwing down his chopsticks,"fugu bad!"


"No! No!"declared a waiter,"Fugu good. He choking-I do Heimlich." 

And so the waiter, half the size of the Texan, threw off the cowboy hat and began doing the Heimlich maneuver on the man in crisis. 

But after several attempts no food was dislodged and as the waiter let go, the Texan dropped to the floor, clawing for air as if it he had dropped it.


"Is there a doctor!"yelled someone.


"I'm a doctor,"said an American woman from the other side of the restaurant running to the scene.


After a quick assessment, the doctor said,"This man needs a tracheotomy."


"I call emergency!"said the store owner who was nearby.


"No-he needs one now or he'll die!" said the doctor,"Hold his head back." 

As several men worked to steady the large victim, the doctor grabbed the old man's steak knife off the table, dipped it in the Texan's beer, wiped it with a napkin and then stabbed the Texan right in the throat.


"Now I need a straw,"said the doctor,"Someone get me a straw?!"


"We no straw restaurant,"said the waiter.


"A pen then, get me a pen!"

The waiter and owner looked at each other and the owner swallowed and replied, "We no pen restaurant, sir."

"I can order online," suggested the hostess with the ipad in hand,"we hi-tech."


"THIS MAN WILL DIE!" screamed the doctor,"DOESN'T ANYONE HAVE A PEN IN THIS GOD- FORSAKEN RESTAURANT?!"


No one did, it seemed.

"Perhaps it is not God forsaken after all," said the old man who had returned from the restroom,"Here." He handed the glass pen to the doctor who quickly emptied it, cleaned it in the beer, jabbed it into the Texan's throat and began to blow oxygen into his lungs.

When the paramedics arrived they were able to dislodge the fugu that apparently was not poisonous, but simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.


And to the old man, who was simply in the right place at the right time, the muted Texan, borrowing the pen (after it was pulled out, washed, and reassembled, of course ) wrote a thank you note:

Thank you for being here to save me. That's the second time I almost died in the last two months. First, was a heart attack. Your a true compadre, he wrote.

Thank God, not me, wrote the old man back, Perhaps you should try a new diet.

I've tried dieting. God knows that don't work with me, wrote the Texan, I can't stop eatin'. I'm never satisfied, comprende?

Perhaps you should return to His table, then. 

Whose table? 

The table of The Master Chef. Comprende?

Comprende, wrote the Texan.

And with that, the two exchanged addresses and goodbyes and parted ways.